by Laura Marney
He laughed and said something about ‘context’ but then he went serious and said he had a contact. A guy he’d done a lot of joinery work for owned a strip club in the city. Ray phoned the guy and apparently the guy couldn’t do enough to help. Everybody loves Ray.
A couple of days later – did Ronald not come in and offer them all free tickets! He said he wasn’t ‘a name’ yet so they weren’t expecting a big crowd and would some of us want to come along? Bums on seats, he said.
Ray and McKenzie weren’t interested, they seemed embarrassed to be asked but that’s typical men. Alice and the Belles jumped at it and what a night it turned out to be!
All the turns were good but Ronald was far and away the best. He sang while he took his clothes off. And he didn’t just strip, what a showman! He never laid a hand on anybody and yet he made love to every woman at that table. Some of them were helluva grateful. Some of the girls had forgotten what it looked like. They only thing was, not everybody liked the colour of his downstairs hair. Jean McEwan said she liked fiery pubes. Years ago, before he went grey, her man had fiery pubes. But the rest of them, Alice included, found the gingerness a wee bit off-putting. Still and all, they never let it spoil their night. They still had a bliddy laugh.
*
Maria almost said no. She can laugh about it now as she watches her solitaire sparkle on her finger, but then, on the cliff top, she was scared.
Her first thought was that it was a prank, that the whole time they had been dating was a big set up for this elaborate joke on her. How could this be? That, in such an unbelievably romantic setting, a bona fide proposal of marriage would be made by the best boyfriend in the world. It could hardly be true.
She panicked, she even tried to run away but on that promontory, that cliff top eyrie, there was nowhere else to run but straight back into Dezzie’s arms. He later joked that he’d planned it that way, saying that if she’d refused he was going to throw her off the cliff.
They agreed to keep it quiet for the meantime; at least until after the show and Dezzie has a chance to speak to Mike and Bert. Neither of them is very sure what the position is with engaged couples working together at the centre. Dezzie said that if it turns out that one of them has to move to another centre it should be him. He has the motorbike for transport; it’s easier for him to go further afield.
‘It’s not just that,’ Maria told him, ‘I’ve been with Blue Group for three years, I don’t think I could just up and leave them for another centre.’
Dezzie understood.
He was happy letting Maria set the date, the sooner the better he said, but he wasn’t bothered. Whatever she wanted was fine by him. Maria favoured a spring wedding. They would try for permission to have the ceremony at Culzean on the cliff top. Failing that they’d have it on the beach. No one could stop them having it there. They were of a similar mind about celebrating it: nothing expensive or showy, just a few close friends, Blue Group obviously, and family. She was dying to tell the girls, especially Anna, and see their faces, their pity turning to envy when they met her gorgeous fiancé. In some ways she was more excited about telling the Kelvin Street Kids than about any other aspect of her wedding.
They agreed that they would each put their flats up for sale and buy a house, a proper house with a garden, a safe place for kids to play in. They planned to get a dog, a lifelong dream of Maria’s, and even came up with a name: Sadie. They thought of children’s names, too. They argued and laughed about it all the time but they couldn’t decide on anything. Dezzie said not to worry, that they’ll know when the babies come along what to call them. And, before they left the cliff top they made love, seriously and without protection, in the gathering dusk. All the way home in the car Dezzie kept reassuring her that she’d made the right decision, that she wouldn’t regret it, that she’d made him the happiest man in the world.
She’s had time to get used to the idea now. She’s accepted that she has as much right as anyone to have her dreams come true.
The last week of rehearsal zoomed past in a haze of last-minute costume fittings and scenery painting. Apart from Magic Marshall’s heightened security with his rabbits, the dress rehearsal went very well. As she spent virtually every waking hour in the church making preparations for the show, Maria actually saw very little of her fiancé. Dezzie – wisely, Maria thinks – stayed well out of the way and let her get on with things. He kept himself occupied watching football most evenings at Brian’s house.
Bert reluctantly agreed that the centre would cover the cost of taxis for Blue Group to and from the church on the night of the show so long as they share. Between them Maria and Dezzie discussed possible routes and arranged to pick everyone up in two taxis. Dezzie will firstly leave his bike at the church and then go by taxi to pick up Fiona, Martin and Jane. She will pick up Brian.
And now, at last, tonight’s the night. Maria reluctantly removes her engagement ring and puts it on the gold chain she wears around her neck. She keeps the chain under her jumper, out of sight and close to her heart. Blue Group is so jumpy and nervous that she doesn’t want to risk any further upsets, tonight’s their night.
When Maria arrives at Brian’s house it’s his mum who brings him out to the taxi. Normally quite a friendly woman, Brian’s mum draws Maria filthy glances as she roughly stuffs her son’s chair into the taxi.
‘He’s got my heart roasted, so he has,’ she says to Maria, and then sharply to Brian, ‘I’ll be telling your father the minute he comes in, don’t think I won’t. I’m warning you, boy!’
Maria doesn’t know what she means and Brian smiles when she asks him.
‘Mmm. Bop.’ says Brian. ‘It’s. A. Secret. No. One. Knows.’
Maria recognises the Hanson lyrics. It’s probably to do with the T-shirt trick the boys are going to play on Mike but when she asks him he refuses to answer. She knows it’s pointless to ask again. She won’t get any sense out of him. Brian is in one of his warped teenage moods and he’s best left to himself when he’s like this. No doubt he’s nervous, but so is she.
The church hall looks like the Albert Hall. It’s amazing, unrecognisable. It’s clean and tidy, swept late last night by Aldo and Bob of wood shavings and silk threads. The school has been emptied of chairs. They’ve been transported here and laid out in tidy rows, packing as many in as the hall can take.
Pastor McKenzie has proved himself invaluable. Good things can apparently come from wild unfounded allegations. The Pastor, always one to put a positive spin on things, thought that Maria’s hastily assembled truth and justice meeting went so well that they should form a health and safety committee. This has admittedly gone some way towards building bridges between Alice and Maria. She has apologised to Alice repeatedly but it wasn’t until Ray had a word that Alice relented and spoke to Maria.
With the approval of the committee and the help of the local fire safety officer, the Pastor has drawn up a fire evacuation plan. McKenzie has ordered his nominated fire exits to be well lit, clear of impediments and open throughout the show. Alice was miffed, saying that those who had been unable to get tickets might be able to sneak in but the Pastor, usually open to compromise, would brook no argument. Especially with so many wheelchair users in the building, safety must take priority over a few people sneaking in, he said.
The hall has a feeling of order and safety to it and it looks lovely. The stage curtains have been washed and mended and now roll along the runners as smooth and quick as a dancer. The snooker table no longer squats in the middle of the floor either. Ray has made a wooden cover as a lid for it and it now serves as the coffee bar at the back of the hall. Betty Anderson, one of the Kitchen Belles, had a fantastic idea for decorating the stage.
A poster went up in a the café a week ago requesting the loan of pot plants and almost everyone coming into the café came with their arms filled with greenery and their name stuck on the side of their plant. People, mostly those who are not otherwise involved in the show, are desperate for their plant to be
included and some of those who had no plant to begin with, went out and bought one. Everybody wants to be in show business. The lip of the stage is covered three-deep in shiny green vegetation, which gives the place an air of class. But Maria has not seen the classiest yet.
The director, the stage manager and the compere for the evening are one and the same person, Marianne Bowman. Marianne has lost all traces of her pearl strung glasses and tweed suit. Her make-up and jewellery are perfectly understated. Her dress, a pale blue full-length Grace Kelly number, highlights her girlish figure. She looks good enough to eat, which is confusing to the senses because unfortunately, as usual, she reeks of Georgio perfume. People in the audience ten rows back will go home tainted with the smell. Apart from this one small foible Marianne brings so much style and grace that she could be a presenter for the Eurovision Song Concert.
Advance ticket sales have been tremendous. They could have sold every seat in the house three times over. Other than to check tickets and sell programmes Pastor McKenzie and his Victory Singers have very little to do.
Marianne has thoughtfully allocated Blue Group exclusive use of the dressing room nearest the stage. By way of a welcome Alice has hung a big gold cardboard star on the door. The others haven’t arrived yet.
Apart from chaperoning Blue Group Maria has been pressed into service as an understudy scene shifter and has been instructed by Marianne to dress in black. She’s already wearing her black trousers and has brought a black polo jumper to change into. It is whilst she’s yanking it over her head and trying to disentangle her hair that Brian catches sight of the ring on the chain.
‘Who. Is. The. Lucky. Man.’ he asks.
Maria smiles, giving nothing away.
‘Are. You. In. Love.’
Again she smiles, this time as confirmation.
‘Me. Too.’
Now they’re both smiling.
‘Who’s the lucky woman?’ Maria teases.
‘Man.’ Brian corrects.
‘Oh,’ says Maria, raising an eyebrow, ‘you’re a dark horse, aren’t you?’
Really she’s quite shocked that Brian has a lovelife at all, never mind the fact that he appears to be saying he’s gay. But Maria is so delighted for him that she can’t resist giving him a hug. Everyone deserves to be happy and in love, especially Brian. Life is wonderful.
She’s glad the others aren’t here yet. She almost never sees Brian on his own these days. Without this time alone together he might not have told her. With all the time she’s had to spend on the show, her relationship with Brian has drifted without her noticing.
‘Well, go on then, who is it?’
Brian repeats the Hanson lyrics.
‘It’s. A. Secret. No. One. Knows.’
‘Okay, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t …’
‘Dezzie.’ says the Dynavox.
Maria laughs.
‘Dezzie?’ Maria says, still laughing.
Brian is smiling.
‘You’re in love with Dezzie?’
Brian has such a beautiful smile.
‘Oh Brian, sweetheart.’
She moves to hug him, this time a slow tender hug. Poor Brian. He has a crush on Dezzie. It’s understandable, but heartbreakingly sad. How awful it must be to want someone without any chance of there ever being a relationship. They mustn’t let Brian find out about their engagement while he feels like this; it’ll break his poor heart.
‘You’re young, Brian. I’m sure there are a lot of nice guys out there. And one of them will be right for you.’
‘Young. But. Not. Daft.’
‘Sorry Brian, I didn’t mean anything other than…’
‘We. Are. In. Love.’
Maria doesn’t know what to say. She hates to shatter his dreams but for his own sake and for Dezzie’s professional reputation, Brian must grasp the difference between reality and wishful thinking.
‘No, Brian, that’s not true. You might think now that you’re in love with Dezzie but you won’t always think like that.’
‘We. Are. In. Love. We. Make. Love. Ergo. Dezzie. Loves. Me.’
‘Did Dezzie tell you that he loves you?’
Brian smiles.
‘No he didn’t, Brian.’
‘Yes.’
‘No he didn’t, Brian!’
‘Dezzie. Touched. Me. Made. Me. Come.’
Maria’s legs collapse under her and she sits on the floor. When she looks up Brian is smiling, proud of the shocking effect his words have had on her.
Chapter 58
Maria rushes out of the dressing room and runs to the toilet. She throws up, retching until her belly is empty. She’s left Brian alone, which is dangerous. If he’s sick, and the chances are he will be, he could choke. She can’t go back in there. She can’t face him. She hates Brian but even as she hates him she knows this is not his fault. He’s nineteen, old enough to go to the pub, old enough to have sex with whomever he chooses. But not really. He’s not like other nineteen-year-olds, he hasn’t snogged at school discos, he hasn’t had the normal shy fumblings, the tentative experiments. His physical disabilities are such that he can’t even find out about his own body. No wonder he’s fallen in love with the first person to have touched him. Maria feels sick again.
She shakes her head until she’s dizzy, her damp hair clinging to the sides of the toilet bowl. But no matter how much she denies it, she feels it must be true. She even knows why it must be true.
Dezzie is too nice, that’s his problem. She’s seen it time and time again in the way he goes out of his way to do everything he can for people. It’s what she loves about him. He’s not a bad person. He only wants to help; he’s so desperate to give what he can to help others that that he doesn’t see the line. And not being able to see it, he has irrevocably crossed it. Really he’s not a bad person, but a flawed one.
Eventually Maria finds the strength to move to the wash hand basin. As she splashes water she catches sight of her slack face in the mirror and nods an acknowledgment. Yes. She was right. A bona fide proposal was too good to be true because Dezzie, sweet stupid fucking Dezzie, is too good to be true. What is she to do?
She knows what she should do. She should report it without delay to her line manager. But then what would happen? Dezzie’s feet wouldn’t touch the ground, that’s for certain. Brian’s family might want to involve the police and Dezzie would end up with a criminal record as a sex offender. Tarred forever as an abuser of a disabled person. It’s too ugly to think about.
Would any of this benefit Brian? Probably not. Considering how Brian’s dad Phil responded to the threat from the flasher, he’d go absolutely mental. His parents would probably keep Brian on an even tighter leash than he’s already on and he’d never find love, and certainly not gay love, his father would not tolerate it. If Dezzie went he’d lose his football buddy, his pal to take him to the pub, his best mate. Dezzie has been so good for Brian. Up until now.
And what would Maria lose?
The door opens and three of the choirgirls burst in, giggling and shoving each other to get to the mirror. Maria has to get back to the dressing room. Her duty lies with Brian.
On the way she has to dodge Ray and Alice, who stand whispering at an open fire exit.
‘That’s your ten-minute call everybody,’ Marianne calls along the corridor, clipboard in hand.
Why did Brian have to tell her? He seemed to take an evil delight in telling her. Up until the moment he spewed that poison Maria was happy. She was excited about the biggest night and highest point of her career. She was engaged to be married to a wonderful man.
She can’t face anyone now. There is no excitement left in her for the show. She has to decide what action she must take but first she has to get through the rest of the evening. There’s nothing she can do about it right at the moment anyway. And she owes it to the rest of them to get through tonight. The show must go on.
They’re all there in the dressing room: Fiona, Martin, Jane
, Brian and Dezzie. She can’t look at him. Her stomach turns when she thinks of him with Brian. He doesn’t seem to notice; perhaps he thinks she’s nervous about the show. Fiona has arrived wearing her costume, the velvet dress Maria bought her. Martin and Jane make huge efforts to reassure Fiona that she looks lovely while Maria busies herself brushing Fiona’s hair. This close to the stage they are able to hear the hubbub of the audience and the hush that descends when Mr Spencer takes up his baton. Orchestre Octogene open, not with their classical repertoire but with a medley of rousing Scottish classics: A hundred Piper’s An Aw and Aw segueing into Scotland the Brave.
There’s a peremptory knock at the dressing room door and Marianne enters.
‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m pleased to inform you that we have a full house tonight!’
Blue Group are delighted by this news.
A frisson builds in the dressing room that cannot touch Maria. Marianne sticks her head out into the corridor.
‘Beginners, please! Hexton Hot Steppers, that means you, come on girls. Quietly!’
She turns her attention back to Blue Group. Though she’s dressed like a movie star, her manner is as brisk as ever. Like a general before a battle she moves among her troops reassuring and motivating them.
‘I just came in to tell you that they’re a lovely audience, everybody out there is rooting for us.’ She cocks an ear and a finger and says,
‘Listen to that!’
Unused to the conventions of theatre the audience are singing along with Flower Of Scotland complete with harmonies. They are raising the roof and this is only the overture. Everybody wants to be in show business. The whole of Hexton want to be involved in Maria’s show. She should be savouring this achievement. Instead she feels sick.
‘I’m so proud of you all,’ says Marianne, ‘and I know you’re going to do your best and make it a great show. Break a leg, everybody!’
Luckily Blue Group already know what, in theatrical terms, this expression actually means.
‘Break your legs, Miss Bowman!’ they all call, including Dezzie, as she leaves.
